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Assessment of the Dworkin-Hart debate Assessment of the Dworkin-Hart debate

Michael B. Williams The University of Montana

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8/98

An Assessment o f the Dworkin-Hart Debate

by

Michael B. Williams

B.A. University o f Florida, 2001

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July 2005

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Williams, Michael B., M.A., July 2005 Philosophy

An Assessment of the Dworkin-Hart Debate

Committee Chair: Dr. Thomas Huff

This essay seeks to describe the Conclusions reached in a seminal debate within Anglo- American legal philosophy, specifically the debate between Ronald Dworkin and H.L. A. Hart. Historically this debate has been framed as a dispute over the necessity of conjoining the concepts of Taw’ and ‘morality.’ My assessment of this debate is an attempt to acknowledge the substantial agreement found in the work of both theorists.

Drawing on an analysis of both Taking Rights Seriously and The Concept of Law this essay points out the shared commitment made by Dworkin and Hart to a liberal ideology. Both Dworkin and Hart maintain that some sense of justice in the application and generation of the law must exist and each rebuffs claims that broad moral discretion ought to be employed. This mutual foundation develops into two largely harmonious positions with only a narrow, though substantive, band of disagreement.

In the end, the important differences between Hart and Dworkin regard the scope of law’s relationship to morality, not the coherence or necessity of such a relationship. Both Dworkin and Hart maintain that any legal system must reflect a minimum systemic morality. Dworkin suggests that this morality often develops into a substantive, though restricted, element of the law and Hart seeks to restrict moral content to strictly procedural issues.

Table of Contents

Introduction 1

Parti. H.L.A. Hart 4

Part II. Ronald Dworkin 16

Part III. Hart’s Postscript Response 39

Conclusion 45

Notes 49

1

Introduction

In a recent paper on analytic jurisprudence Brian Leiter makes a case for the need

to move discussion in legal philosophy away from what he calls the “Hart/Dworkin

debate.”1 I agree and the topic of this essay is aimed at finally coming to a conclusion

about the state of analytic jurisprudence. My intention here is to clarify the substantial

agreement that exists in Anglo-American legal philosophy, specifically between H.L.A.

Hart’s positivism and Ronald Dworkin’s early theory of law.2 Contrary to Leiter’s

assertion that “on the particulars of the Hart/Dworkin debate, there has been a clear

victor,”31 argue that the debate itself has been largely exaggerated on both sides. In my

view, the liberal ideology that underlies both theories develops into largely harmonious

positions with only a narrow, though substantive, band of disagreement. In the

following pages, I will argue that the important differences between Hart and Dworkin

regard the scope of law’s relationship to morality, not the coherence or necessity of such

a relationship. In the end both Hart and Dworkin maintain that any legal system must

reflect a minimum systemic morality. Dworkin suggests that this morality often develops

into a substantive, though restricted, element of the law and Hart seeks to restrict moral

content to strictly procedural issues.

I address this debate in order to present a balanced description of the

contemporary state of the analytic philosophy of law. Often the tendency is to sloganize

philosophic or legal theory in an overly reductive manner. According to such reductive

accounts, positivism radically separates morality and law, and Dworkin wants to

inexorably conjoin the two in a grand sense. In fact, each side of this old debate has a

position somewhere between these simplistic extremes. On my account, far from having

2

a clear winner, the Hart/Dworkin debate reaches an agreement of sorts on the necessity of

some minimum moral content of a robust legal system.4 This agreement stipulates the

need for some sense of justice in application and generation of the law, but stops short of

claiming that broad moral discretion ought to be exercised with regard to particular laws.

The remaining dispute then is over the scope of moral discretion in adjudication. As will

become clear, I favor Dworkin’s position that a procedural morality often plays a

substantive role in the interpretation of legal rules.

In an effort to make this case, I begin with an exposition of the positivist position

as espoused by Hart. Hart begins by arguing that a sophisticated account of law (that is

one capable of dealing with a pluralistic society) requires more than a system of primary

rules backed by the enforcement power of a sovereign or the expectations of a

community. On his account, a system of secondary rules is required to pick out what

primary rules are recognized as carrying the obligatory force of law. Hart maintains that

these secondary rules of recognition rest on their being a “proper way of disposing of

doubts as to the existence of a rule.”5 Secondary rules pick out the ways in which laws

are generated, applied and changed. Such secondary rules are necessary because theyf

give body to “the reasons individual members have for acceptance” of a society’s

“various forms of pressure for conformity.”6 That is to say, secondary rules provide a

necessary condition for general acceptance of a legal system, creating a legal duty to

obey primary rules, but not stipulating morally what primary rules ought to be enacted.

Next I take up Dworkin’s criticism of Hart, specifically that Hart stops short of

realizing the full potential of a legal system founded upon agreement to some shared set

of rules. If the system of secondary rules of recognition applies an obligating force to

3

law, it is only because there is an agreement to the principles which support these rules;

that is, the principles of the rule of law e.g. like cases treated alike. The problem with

positivism as Dworkin sees it is that the force of these liberal moral principles is

neglected in all but their obligation giving function (and even there they are given a

“whitewash.”) Positivism has sought to use secondary rules to shield the process of

adjudication from the morality always implicit in the system of laws, obfuscating

systemic legal principles in a search for perfectly conclusive rules. Dworkin argues that

a non-conclusive ethos pervades the system of legal rules and must be accounted for in

legal reasoning and decision making.

In “Hard Cases”7 Dworkin argues, in particular, that procedural morality plays

more than a foundational function, it also plays an interpretive role through the

formulation of legal principles. The idea is that the principles underlying rules can be

applied to give content or a more full form to rules. Hart contends that when cases of

gaps in primary rules arise, giving light to genuine ambivalence, secondary rules call for

the generation of novel solutions. Dworkin suggests that the invocation of moral

principles embedded in the law offers an important clarifying tool for primary rules and

gives a more clear conception of the shape taken by the legal system. The move here is

to draw upon Hart’s notion that legal obligation requires some value-laden predisposition

to a set of secondary rules, effectively bootstrapping this disposition into a meaning

giving heuristic. In this sense Dworkin relies on Hart’s requirements for obligation to

offer a modification of the positivist notion that morality need not play a part in

interpreting primary rules.

4

In Hart’s Postscript reply to Dworkin he points out that there is in fact a good deal

of agreement between the two and follows Elliot Soper referring to Dworkin as a “soft

positivist.”8 Hart’s contention here is that principles are just a complex version of what

he had earlier called secondary rules. Here Hart assents to the importance of non-

conclusive principles in legal reasoning, but claims such principles are merely broad

versions of secondary rules. So where a secondary rule might clearly pick out a valid

primary rule as anything written into the code of Hammurabi, a principle might less

clearly identify a primary rule as maintaining the value of equality. In either case Hart

believes the appropriate distinction between the two is a matter of kinds. His assertion is

that, in the end, “there is no need to accept this sharp contrast between legal principles

and legal rules.”9 I agree with Hart that there is no need for a rigid distinction, but argue

that such a distinction can be maintained and it may even have advantages.

PART I. H.L.A. Hart

H.L.A. Hart argues for a moderate version of positivism’s ‘separability thesis,’

which asserts that morality, as such, has no necessary role to play in understanding law.

Here I point out that Hart’s understanding belies a concept of law that takes as its root a

social contractarian position, and as such a liberal legal morality. I will develop this

position by contrasting Hart’s position with that of his positivist predecessor John Austin,

pointing out how Hart’s positivism moves toward an internal social paradigm of law’s

authority. Hart’s liberalism will be exposited through analysis of his distinction between

primary and secondary rules, which ultimately complement the concept of law as

espoused by liberal political theorist John Rawls.

5

Early in the 18th Century John Austin wrote, “Law... may be said to be a rule laid

down for the guidance of an intelligent being by an intelligent being having power over

him.”10 On Austin’s account, law has two distinct senses, natural law and positive law.

Natural law on this account meant classical natural law, the theory that law was imposed

from a God’s will or outside of man’s prerogative.11 Positive law, on the other hand, is

“set by men to men.”12 The aim of John Austin’s work, following closely on the heels of

Hobbes, was to distinguish sharply between positive law and natural law the proper realm

of law as defined by the social contract. Austin of course endorsed the view of positive

law as the appropriate method of understanding law as the concept is applied to the

affairs of men engaged in social enterprise.

Austin held that the positive law of men to men represented the same essential

structure held by classical natural law, except, rather than God imposing law on men,

politically superior men imposed the law on other men. Law taken in this sense is

broadly construed as a command from a superior authority to a subordinate. Austin

applies this concept of law generally to social conditions of law when he claims,

“In order that a given society may form a society political and independent... two independent marks... must unite. The generality of the given society must be in the habit of obedience to a determinate and common superior: whilst that determinate person, or determinate body of persons must not be habitually obedient to a determinate person or body.It is the union of that positive, with this negative mark, which renders... a society political and independent.’’13

The idea here is that determination by some single sovereign person or body, which sets

rules or the law of behavior to which the society at large is obliged to conform represents

conceptual human law.

Austin’s conception of law as the prerogative of a society’s sovereign accords

with the conception of a sovereign’s authority as Hobbes envisioned it under his social

contract. Hart, however, modifies Austin’s ‘command theory’ of law transforming the

manner in which the concept of law is understood and thus obfuscating the relationship

between his own position and the political understanding of Hobbes’ social contract.

Hart argues that the command of a sovereign does not imply any duty on the part of

political subordinates. On Hart’s account, the command of the sovereign is much like the

command of an armed gunman; one is “obliged” to obey but has no duty to do so. The

important thing here is to flesh out just how Hart construes an individual’s duty to obey

the law as distinct from avoidance of the harm implied by the sovereign’s command.

Recall that, on Austin’s account, law is the positive and negative system of

commands and punishment predicted by those commands. Hart contends that law as thus

understood is really nothing more than a system predicting punishment, implying no duty

on the part of the subject only a rational expectation of behavior. Hart points out the

counter-intuitive ramifications of such an account writing that it would appear to be a

contradiction to say that a citizen had an obligation but “there was not the slightest

chance of his being caught or made to suffer.”14 This seems perfectly normal to our

everyday usage of obligation, but would entail a contradiction on Austin’s account. Such

criticism of course does not logically preclude the validity of any particular system of

law, it does however point out the difference between Austin’s view of law and the

common notion of legal accountability. The criticism Hart brings to bear on Austin’s

conception of law is that avoiding the consequences of a law does not remove the

authority of that law.

7

Hart contends that the law implies some sort of obligation or duty by the subject,

regardless of the applicability of the consequences. This is not to say that punishment

and law are not linked for Hart, only that the ability to punish does not justify the

authority of law; rather, authority flows in the opposite direction. Hart writes, “the

fundamental objection (to Austin) is that the predictive interpretation obscures the fact

that, where rules exist, deviations from them are not merely grounds for a prediction that

hostile reactions will follow... they are also a reason or justification for such reaction.”15

The validity of the law, then, grants authority to punish the breaking of a law, rather than

the authority to punish validating the right to make rules. The idea here is that obligation

arises from within the system of rules, while only likely choices may be predicted by an

outside analysis of the relationship between rules and punishment.

At the crux of Hart’s understanding of law lays the tension between internal

systems and external systems. External systems are those like Austin’s that rely on an

understanding of rules that limit the normative social system to the likelihood of

Jbehaviors occurring in response to possible punishment as viewed from without. “What

the external view,” according to Hart, “cannot reproduce is the way in which rules

function as rules in the lives of those who normally are the majority of society.”16 Hart

contends that from an internal perspective individuals often, and even usually, make

decisions in accordance with rules of law not to avoid punishment but because they

accept those rules as a guide to conduct. Thus, from an internal perspective “the

violation of a rule is not merely a basis for the prediction that a hostile reaction will

follow but a reason for hostility.”17 The key to law for Hart is that it creates a duty of

8

obligation, which when viewed from without may be seen as a merely predictable

behavior, but to which members of a society feel bound.

Typically, Hart contends that this binding property of obligation associated with

law is understood from the internal perspective, but this leaves room for the external

perspective of both Austin and Hobbes. Rather than moving away from Austin’s direct

rendering of Hobbes’ objective social contract theory of law, Hart is in effect filling in a

missing element of the social analysis of law. Both Austin and Hobbes focus their

concern on the structure of law as understood from the theorist’s perspective; that is,

understanding how authority works to coerce behavior. Hart merely points out that in

fact the internal perspective of the same phenomenon, viz., the individual’s agreement to

or adoption of coerced behavior, must also be recognized to understand law. In

acquiescence to his predecessors Hart writes, “any legal theory anxious to do justice to

the complexity of the facts is to remember the presence of both these points of view and

not define one of them out of existence.”18

In the end, it seems clear that Hart has in mind a fuller conception of law as

understood from both internal and external perspectives. In reconstructing Hart’s

particular concept of Law, vis a vis his commitment to positivism, we will look to the

complexities he describes in two sets of social mandates. In the most primitive lawful

society there must, on Hart’s account of lawfulness, exist some basic primary rules of

obligation, which carry with them some threat of social enforcement. Primary rules are

requirements of behavior, both positive and negative, such as restrictions on the harm of

others and duties to aid the community. In small primitive societies, Hart contends,

primary rules may themselves be enough to create a system of obligation based on a

9

shared standard of behavior. In such a system a shared morality is often at the core of the

system of primary rules, but crucially the morality of the community is not identical with

the law, but helps to structure primary rules.

Hart describes primary rules as the attitude of society “towards its own standard

modes of behavior in terms of which we have characterized rules of obligation.”19

Primary rules then are the rules, often moral ones, a society will choose to govern the

behavior of its members. These governing rules are not merely understood as

“customary” but represent obligatory rules of behavior in society. Hart describes the

primary rules of society as internally recognized by members of society and nearly

universal owing to peculiarities about human nature and society. Among examples of

primary rules are “restrictions on free use of violence, theft, and deception” as well as

others “imposing duties to perform service or make contributions to the common life.”20

The essential character of primary rules is that they are obligatory social norms, which

carry with them the enforcement power of social reprimand, not that they reflect a

standard of morality.

Although all that Hart requires of a lawful community are primary rules, Hart sees

such rules as systemically uncertain in any but the smallest of societies. Hart argues that

a full concept of law in the Anglo-American tradition also includes secondary rules.

Secondary rules supplement the uncertainty of obligation inherent in primary rules and

thus complete the system of social obligation, as Hart understands law. Hart’s

understanding here reflects a liberal political ethic because it supposes the members of

society hold belief systems so divergent that they are incapable of adhering to, or more

importantly fully grasping, a social system of primary rules which is not clearly

10

illuminated by something more than a shared understanding. The idea here is that law is

a system of obligation identifiable to the community at large so that in a diverse

community law must be understood in more specific terms than social norms.

Social norms, even those that are widely enough accepted to carry with them the

force of significant social pressure, fall short of representing law for such large, diverse

communities, on Hart’s account, in three key areas. Within a small and closely-knit

community it may be clear what social expectations exist. One knows, for instance, what

behaviors one’s parents tolerate, but within an expanded community social norms may be

quite unclear. Thus primary rules fail to offer the level of certainty implied by law.

Secondly, altering primary rules to fit the changing circumstance of a society will require

a gradual and seemingly unintentional altering of rules over time as society’s members

themselves change; otherwise the law will have an unacceptably static character. Finally,

Hart contends the reliance on mere social determination of rules and enforcement creates

inefficiency in the application of laws, i.e. the determination of when a law has been

disobeyed, inconsonant with his greater conception of law. Hart purposes to solve these

deficiencies in law as a system of primary rules of social obligation by including

secondary rules.

In order to meet his first objection to primary rules, namely uncertainty, Hart

introduces a secondary rule he calls a ‘rule of recognition. ’ The rule of recognition

asserts that there must be some specific “feature or features possession of which by a

suggested rule is taken as a conclusive affirmative indication that a rule of the group is

supported by the social pressure it exerts."21 Recognition then may entail that a specific

rule once merely socially understood is written down in a constitution or may broaden to

11

include a body of common law understood in terms of past decisions. The point is that

there should be some way to authoritatively identify those rules that are in fact primary

social rules. Without a rule of recognition, Hart contends there can always be dispute as

to what primary social rules actually exist and what social norms are mere convention; in

other words, a rule of recognition allows one to distinguish which norms carry the force

of obligation and which do not.

With rules of recognition in place, the flux relied upon within community norms

to meet changing circumstance can become static. In order to avoid this difficulty, Hart

suggests that ‘rules of change’ be codified as a secondary rules. Rules of change are

meant to allow for the introduction, revision and repeal of primary rules as changing

circumstance warrants. As a general understanding, we may think of rules of change as

the legislative or other rule making systems, whereby a society sets forth a body of law.

Of course, “there will be a very close relationship between the rules of change and the

rules of recognition: for where the former exists the latter will necessarily incorporate a

reference to legislation as an identifying feature of the rules.”22 The point here is that a

system including rules of change relies on those rules to provide a conclusive indication

that the rule carries with it obligation and is not merely a general habit. Rules of change

then underlie the rules of recognition in that they provide the groundwork for picking out

what is to be recognized as a social obligation of the individual.

Once there is a method of determining what should be recognized as an obligation

in society, the final difficulty to be overcome with primary rules, as Hart sees it, is

determining when the rule actually has been broken. Although seemingly a

straightforward enough matter, there is often disagreement amongst persons as to what

12

has occurred as well as applicability to the rule as presented. The remedy Hart offers is a

secondary ‘rule of adjudication’ which “besides identifying the individuals who are to

'y'xadjudicate, such rules will also define the procedure to be followed.” The idea here is

that a society confers decision-making authority on a judge or court, but moreover it sets

the parameters for what will be considered an adequate method of judgment. The rule of

adjudication thus also serves as a rule of recognition since judgments made in accord

with it should have the force of law, while those in disaccord will not.

In summary, Hart’s conception of law requires a system of social primary rules

with the addition of three secondary rules, each aimed at clarifying the application of

specific laws or rules. Hart’s principal criticism of social norms as primary rules it that

there is a lack of certainty as to what those rules are in fact. He argues that secondary

rules of recognition, are supported by both rules of change and adjudication, and thus

solve the problem of uncertainty.

The difficulty of uncertainty in law was also a subject of Section 38 of liberal

theorist John Rawls’ A Theory o f Justice. In that section Rawls writes, “A legal system is

a coercive order of public rules addressed to rational persons for the purpose of providing

the framework for social cooperation.”24 Rawls argues for ‘justice as regularity’ by

pointing out the sense in which obligation is justified in a liberal system only by an

objective understanding of the law, which provides a framework for cooperation. That is,

in order for law to entail obligation as Hart contends, it must be just in the sense that it is

not a matter for subjective judgment, but an agreement by subjects to an objective rule.

Hart himself defends this thesis of the justice of law implicitly when he claims that

primary rules alone cannot constitute law in a large community. The intention of Hart’s

13

secondary rules is in fact to assure a certainty or objectivity about law, and thus to allow

obligation once social agreement is made. Hart’s tacit contention is that social

cooperation is only achievable with secondary rules identifying and clarifying primary

rules.

While Hart maintains that he wants to describe law as it is, not as it ought to be,

by describing law as reliant upon secondary rules he demonstrates an implied

understanding of law as based on some of the values of political liberalism. Hart

emphasizes the individual’s right to know the law if it is to be obligatory, and thus

attributes a specific moral content to the law, namely a principle of equality in

application. The idea implicit in Hart’s call for a rule of recognition imbedded in

secondary rules o f law is that for law to apply to persons it must be accessible by them.

Here we see a separation of law from a robust moral content in the primary rules, but an

acceptance of some minimal morality in the secondary rules. The minimal morality

included by Hart’s secondary rules is simply a means of addressing the morality implicit

in the notion of an obligation to obey primary rules. In this sense then Hart’s minimal

moral content provides a moral justification for the system of rule creation and

application, not for specific primary legal rules.

Hart’s strong liberalism points toward a straightforward method of understanding

law as including a series of secondary rules, which describe what a valid method of

finding the law looks like. On Hart’s account of law as a system of rules, primary and

secondary, secondary rules pick out just what counts as a primary rule and how this is to

be decided.

I am inclined to accept Hart’s method of understanding law for the sake of clarity,

but as Ronald Dworkin points out, Hart’s thesis, “stops short of those puzzling, hard

cases that send us to look for theories of law.”25 Dworkin’s criticism of Hart is that in

penumbral cases where the shadow of a law seems to apply, but the primary rule itself is

ambiguous, Hart is unable to offer a secondary covering rule and must then reject the

case as outside the scope of existent law. Hart claims that, in so called ‘hard cases’ a

judiciary using individual prerogative or strong discretion is forced to create law.

Dworkin, by contrast, argues that there are moral principles underlying primary rules that

may be drawn out by the judiciary in hard cases so that rather than creating law, the

judiciary in a sense discovers the law. Hart’s theoretical understanding of law requires

that the law be announced by rule, and while a secondary rule may be that judges create

law in cases where there is none, without a specific primary rule with the appropriate

pedigree under the rule of recognition, no primary law exists for hard cases.

I have already discussed the rule of recognition in Hart’s theory of law, but I think

it is important to more fully explicate this concept in connection with what Hart takes to

be legal validity. A rule of recognition is meant to provide judges of law “with

authoritative criteria for identifying primary rules of obligation.”26 Of course, the fact

that a rule of recognition provides authoritative criteria does not imply that those criteria

can be easily applied. Within a complex legal system, the rule of recognition is liable to

be complex as well, often including reference to a written constitution, enactment by

legislature and judicial precedents. An ordering system is required in such cases in order

to determine which of these ‘sources’ of law is primary in the case of conflict. “It is in

15

this way that in our system ‘common law’ (judicial precedent) is subordinate to ‘statute’

(legislative and constitutional).”27

Importantly Hart wants to point out that judicial precedent, although subordinate,

does not derive its authority from statute, but from a secondary rule of recognition that

picks out judicial decisions as valid, though subordinate, sources of law. It is important

for Hart to make this point clear in order to disabuse his reader of the notion that all law

essentially comes from legislation and is merely interpreted by the judiciary. To the

contrary, on Hart’s account, a judge makes internal statements of the scope and nature of

primary rules, statements that presuppose the external validity of the system and

“constitute a reason for his decision.”28 The idea here is that a judge does not refer to the

validity of legislative regulation, thereby justifying primary rules in an external manner

as a fact of existence in a certain society. Rather, the judge determines if a primary rule

meets the criteria of the rule of recognition presupposed to be valid for the society, and

thus decides the case at hand in accordance with a rule whose existence is a matter of

fact.

The rule of recognition is a manner of determining primary rules not in accord

with their power to predict the behavior of society, but in accord with whatever system of

validation is in fact applied by society. On Hart’s account, judges using the rule of

recognition demonstrate the rule without any justificatory aims and thereby pick out

primary rules without demonstrating any validity to the rule other than its conforming to

the rule of recognition. In instances where legislation, the primary source of law, is silent

or ambiguous, subordinate sources of law such as the courts are recognized as having

authority to create law. Yet, under the rule of recognition no appeal is to be made to an

external validation, rather the new primary rule is taken to be valid because it arises from

a recognized source of law. In hard cases, Hart contends the judge has full discretion to

rule in any manner not in conflict with other more primary sources of law, in virtue of

being recognized as a valid source of law.

Hart is arguing for a method of understanding the laws solely in virtue of an

internal perspective, which does not attempt to validate the system of rule recognition,

but merely relies on it as a fact used to pick out primary rules. Rules on this account are

a matter of fact in virtue of their adhering to the system of rules of recognition, and in

that sense are essentially separate from any moral of justificatory claims made on their

behalf. Unfortunately, these factual rules often provide no guidance in cases where

legislation is vague or ambiguous, leaving subordinate sources of law free reign to dictate

primary rules as they see fit in virtue of their position under the rule of recognition.

Ironically, it is just this rule of recognition that is intended to provide the certainty in

matters of law, which Hart would require to create a real obligation in persons.

PARTII. Ronald Dworkin

In his ”Model of Rules I, ” Ronald Dworkin responds to Hart arguing that

positivism’s “central notion of a single fundamental test for law (the rule of recognition)

forces us to miss the important roles of standards that are not rules.”29 Dworkin’s

position is that, by focusing exclusively on rules, positivism neglects the importance of

standards of both policy and principle in constituting laws and thus unnecessarily binds

the judiciary to exclude the moral standards implicit in the law. On Dworkin’s account,

there is a necessary moral element implicit in the law, which may be drawn upon in hard

cases to shape understanding without creating new law. My claim here is that Dworkin’s

17

reliance on moral principles implicit in the law includes the substantive moral principles

of a liberal political state allowing an expansion of the foundational procedural values

found in Hart.\

Unlike Hart’s position that law is a matter of fact picked out by rule, adjudication

on Dworkin’s account relies not on facts about the law but on a range of moral positions

derived from the pertinent, extant body of law. Dworkin’s idea is that there is an ethos of

the law that is applicable to any particular situation. When clear rules do not apply

judges then ought to look towards this ethos of the law for answers. I take myself to be

reflecting Dworkin’s more positivistic position from his ‘Hard Cases’ paper, rather than

the weaker natural law position espoused in his reply to David Richards in the Appendix

to Taking Rights Seriously. Richards had argued that the particular political morality of

a legal system is a matter of fact about which one may be either right or wrong,

Dworkin’s response claims that, in principle, nearly any morality is available to judges. I

hold the view (which I believe to be Dworkin’s earlier position) that the institutional

political morality of a particular legal system is circumscribed by previous legislation and

adjudication, but remains abstract enough to be a matter of interpretation rather than of

fact. Such a reading is in line with the notion of a legal ethos, in that while a community

may have an ethos, equally rational judges often interpret that ethos differently. For

example, both Democrats and Republicans claim to have the moral pulse of America.31

Likewise, distinct members of the judiciary may each claim to have the moral pulse of

the law and the legal system.

Dworkin’s suggestion that judges appeal to the ethos of a specific body of laws

provides a sort of weak discretion. Judges on such an account do not create law; they

interpret the ethos of the law in adjudication claims not specifically covered by rule. This

allows discretion because equally reasonable interpretations may differ, just as political

judgments of the community’s ethos may differ. Yet, the discretion here is clearly

weaker than those supposed by Hart, because judges are constrained by the ethos implied

by the rules of law and thus are not free to decide however they will. By allowing this

weak discretion in legal interpretation, Dworkin confirms the need for consistency in

understanding the law, thus maintaining Hart’s criterion of obligation, while providing

for a body of morality, an ethos, which may aid in the integration of the law and legal

system.

In describing Dworkin’s approach to understanding law, what we must do is

decide just what he means by standards, describe how these standards augment law as a

system of rules, and analyze how they allow for legal interpretation while constraining

the judiciary to a standard of consistency.

Standards in Dworkin’s terminology consist of principles and policies. A

principle in this specific sense is “a standard that is observed... because it is a

requirement of justice or fairness, or some other dimension of morality.” A policy is a

standard that “sets out a goal to be reached, generally an improvement in some economic,

political or social feature of the community.”32 This distinction is often collapsed since

principles are sometimes construed as policies and vice versa, such as when the principle,

“no man should gain from wrong doing,” is stated in terms of the goal of society being to

protect such a principle. While this distinction will prove important later, for now all that

need be understood is that standards are distinct from the rules from which they are

derived.

19

Standards deviate from rules in the following significant sense, “rules are

applicable in an all or nothing fashion. A principle... does not even purport to set out

conditions that make its application necessary.”33 If the circumstances a rule stipulates

are present, and the rule is valid, then the determination dictated by rule must be accepted

wholly. Dworkin takes as an example the ‘three strikes and you’re out’ rule of baseball.

If a batter takes three strikes in a game of baseball, the circumstance stipulated by rule is

met. An official who takes the three strikes rule as a valid rule of baseball, which

presumably all officials must, must then call the batter out. There is no room for

deviation from the consequences stated by rule. On the other hand if a batter takes one or

two strikes, the rule does not apply and in consequence, the rule provides no guidance for

action.

Principles, or standards, on the other hand, state a general aim. In any

circumstance where that aim is at all pertinent, the principle may be applied as a guide for

action. We can think of principles then as key maxims that go into the make up of an

ethos. Principles, that is, are the structure of an ethos, which lies in the law. As an ethos

is not definitive or concrete, the application of principle is not wholly determinative of

the outcome; it provides a reason for an outcome, which may be judged more or less

compelling given other standards also germane to the decision at hand. Dworkin points

to the famous decision in Riggs v. Palmed4 as an example of judicial use of legal

principle.

The crucial question in Riggs v. Palmer was, ‘If one kills the owner of an estate to

which he is heir does he still have a right to his inheritance?’ The court in this instance

states “statutes... if literally construed... give this property to the murderer.” Thus by rule

20

the property ought to be given to the inheritor/murderer. In the opinion of the Court,

Justice Earl claims, “all laws... may be controlled by general fundamental maxims of the3 c

common law.” The court claims that there is a general, fundamental maxim of the law

that “No one shall be permitted to...acquire property by his crime.”36 Dworkin

understands this fundamental maxim to be an example of a principle of law. In other

words, the legal ethos behind rules about inheritance, murder, legal profits and harms etc.

indicates the principle that one should not profit from inflicting illegal harm. This

principle is not an explicit rule of law, but is a part of the spirit or ethos of the law.

According to Dworkin, “All that is meant, when we say that a particular principle

is a principle of our law, is that the principle is one which officials must take into3 7

account, if it is relevant, as a consideration inclining in one direction or another.” The

prefatory “all that” in Dworkin’s claim may strike some as odd. It seems there is a rather

large claim being made here, namely that judges must take into account principles

gathered from the ethos of applicable law. It seems this places a burden on the judiciary

to interpret in almost all instances the morality or ethos upon which the rule of law is

seated. This is no mean feat, but Dworkin is correct in pointing out that the principle

need not be decisive only that it must point in a direction.

So while Justice Earl, along with a majority of the Court, found that Elmer Palmer

could not benefit from killing his grandfather, it could have been otherwise in spite of the

principle used in the decision. If some other principle of law were found more weighty in

the particular circumstance, Palmer may well prevail. Say that, for instance, the killer

wrote a memoir detailing his grandfather’s murder, intending it to prevent future murders.

One might appeal to a principle that persons should gain from their attempts to prevent

21

wrongdoing, and allow the financial gain. Importantly, the existence of one applicable

principle in law does not preclude the existence of other applicable and contradictory

principles. A judge recognizing each principle is left with discretion to decide which

principles, if any, is most weighty. Principles help judges reach an understanding of a

system of law by offering a scale of the relative importance of conflicting claims on

justice, but do not dictate necessary decisions as do rules.

Without the certainty of dictating necessary outcomes, it is hard to see how

Dworkin’s principles can be accorded with Hart’s requirement of law, that it creates

obligation in virtue of being applied uniformly through a rule of recognition. Indeed

Dworkin himself argues that Hart’s thesis of obligation must be rejected if his own

account of principles in law is to be taken seriously. However, Dworkin here is assessing

the strongest version of Hart’s theory of obligation, particularly emphasizing the notion

of uniformity or certainty.38 I contend that, with a broader understanding of the term

certainty in recognition, Hart’s rule of recognition is not so restrictive that principles

cannot be applied in various ways. Much of Dworkin’s “The Model o f Rules II” is spent

refuting Hart’s concept of obligation in strong and weak forms (never addressing the type

of weakened sense of certainty I suggest.) Nevertheless, I will take some care to make

this point clear.

Dworkin claims there are two senses in which one can consider principles for the

purposes of reaching legal decisions:

a) We might treat legal principles the way we treat legal rules and say that some principles are binding as law and must be taken into account by judges and lawyers who make decisions of legal obligation...b) We might, on the other hand, deny that principles can be binding the way some rules are. We would say, instead that in cases like Riggs, the judge reaches

22

beyond the rules that he is bound to apply for extra-legal principles he is free tofollow if he wishes.39

On Hart’s account of the rule of recognition, option b is perfectly viable; a rule may

recognize the judge as a valid source of law on the judge’s own terms. Any moral

principles the judge sees fit to utilize then become law in virtue of judicial

pronouncement, but must not be considered law in their own right. For Dworkin morality

itself is part of the law and not legislated by the judiciary, but applied as in option a. Yet,

if the application of morality as such is to be read as consistent with Hart’s rule of

recognition, there must be some socially agreed upon rule for how the obligating

principles are to be distinguished from all others.

The key to understanding the rule for determining what constitutes a legally valid

obligating principle is found in Dworkin’s description of discretion. Judicial discretion,

according to Dworkin in The Model of Rules /, “like the hole in a doughnut, does not

exist except as an area left open by a surrounding belt of restriction.”40 So unlike Hart’s

version of discretion wherein moral principles are to be applied in an unrestricted fashion

by a judiciary empowered to create law, Dworkin’s judge has the authority to apply

moral principles according to his or her discretion, which means freely within some set of

restrictions. These restrictions on judicial discretion represent what one could call a

minimal rule of recognition. That is to say, there is a standard of what principles may be

applied to a legal question at hand, and we may refer to whatever that standard is as a rule

of recognition.

Recall that the rule of recognition is a supplemental device to primary rules

intended to ensure objective certainty about law and thereby justify the obligation of

citizens to that law. There is no requirement that the rule of recognition is simple or

23

direct, only that it authoritatively picks out what sort of argument counts as legally valid

in virtue of pedigree. Dworkin’s version of judicial discretion does not claim that judges

are “simply not bound by standards,”41 “only that his decision is not controlled by a

standard furnished by the particular authority we have in mind.”42 On Dworkin’s

account, then, there is some standard for what makes a principle a legally valid standard

of judicial decision-making. Further, Dworkin contends that the standard of judging

legally valid principles has the same importance as a rule.

A judge who disregards applicable rules will most certainly be chastised for

failing to fulfill his or her obligation to the law. Likewise, the judge who neglects

applicable principles in making a decision may be criticized as being disobedient. If the

Court in Riggs, for instance, had failed to take account of the principle that ‘no man

should profit from his own wrong doing,’ the Court would have failed in its duty to

consider the appropriate principle and the plaintiff had a right to have that principle

considered. According to Dworkin, “We mean no more, when we say that a rule is

binding upon a judge, than that he must follow it if it applies, and that if he does not, he

will on that account have made a mistake.”43 The idea here is that those involved in the

legal process should have some means of determining what are appropriate principles to

be applied in a given circumstance.

The question, then, is what sort of standard Dworkin has in mind for

understanding the restricted scope of judicial discretion in applying moral principle to the

understanding of law. Dworkin’s argument supposes that “no mechanical procedure

exists for demonstrating the rights of parties in hard cases,” and thus, “reasonable judges

and lawyers will often disagree about legal rights.”44 Yet, if one party to the dispute has

24

a preexisting right to win, as Dworkin contends, and there should be admonishment of

judges who fail to consider all relevant principles, then there must be some way to

determine which principles are relevant and ought to be considered. Indeed, in his “Hard

Cases ” paper Dworkin outlines a conception of the ring of restraint that constrains

judicial discretion in understanding the law, vis a vis standards or principles.

Dworkin invokes the distinction raised earlier between standards as matters of

policy and standards of principle to begin the restraint of judicial discretion in a certain

way. Policy based principles, recall, characteristically seek social, economic, or political

goals. Judicial arguments of policy, then, would seek to justify legal decisions based on

the advancement or protection of some collective goal of the community as a whole.

Principles, on the other hand, that reflect a statement of fairness or justice observed by a

society’s morality seek to justify decisions based on respect for some individual or group

right. Dworkin proposes the thesis that judicial decisions in hard cases “should be

generated [only] by principle not policy.”45

Dworkin’s claim is that, in cases where there is no clear history of rule or judicial

decision making to apply, a judge may rely on principle in formulating a decision.

Principle here is not a code word for strong discretion, rather principle is understood as

reflecting the institutional morality culled from behind historical rules such as legislation

and common law. The ethos of the law is the driving force of such principles and on

Dworkin’s account ought not be confused with the policy direction of a community. The

nature of an ethos is vague and here Dworkin is clarifying that legal decision making

must rely on the ethos embedded in the law. This move takes the judge’s discretion away

from making localized political decisions and forces a circumspect attention to the ethos

25

of extant law. Principles, Dworkin argues, reference “the implications of trends of

judicial and legislative decisions.” In this sense previous law, implies principles,

foreshadows them. Such previous implication seeks to satisfy Hart’s condition that any

legal system be consistent if it is to be obligatory.

If principles play a role in creating decisions, though, it seems there is a feedback

loop in effect. Principles used in earlier cases, surely affect the outcome and trend of

current legal decisions. Such a system seems likely to reinforce certain early moral

features implied by the law, and thus may move toward alleviating Devlin’s concern

about a morally integrated society. Yet, Dworkin’s system stops short of being an

ossification of any specific morality. Principles reference each other in the loose sense

that they are developed alongside other principles and often in response to them. But

development of principles in response to others implies some dissention in the morality

underlying the law. There is on Dworkin’s account some reasonable moral disagreement

within the law. Principles often conflict as rules never can, and in this sense “principles

“hang together” rather than link together.” 46

Dworkin’s position that standards of principle and not policy may be used to

direct judicial discretion is based on what he calls a “rights thesis.” The rights thesis is

that “judicial decisions enforce existing political rights.” Since rights act as a trump on

the general welfare interests of policies, reliance on standards of policy for legal

interpretation has the flaw of violating the rights of individuals. Dworkin argues that,

courts have a responsibility to enforce the principles underlying law, which, as a matter

of form in liberal states, act as a check on the majoritarian interest of policies. Principles,

in Hart’s terminology, reflect a preexisting obligation that corresponds to rights in the

26

rights thesis. Policies on the other hand are decisions about the present aims of a society

and thus cannot be obligatory on Hart’s account. In supposing judges ought to draw on

principles and not policies Dworkin’s “rights thesis” thus takes as its practice the liberal

obligations Hart notes in legal decision making.

Principles as we have seen are not concrete decision-makers like rules; rather

many competing principles may be applicable to a question of law and all Dworkin seems

to require of a judge is that he or she consider and weigh these competing principles. The

judge on Dworkin’s account is required to argue for the supremacy of one principle to

another. Crucially, for Dworkin the institutional history of rights does not oppose

judicial discretion, it aids in the explanation of the disposition of present rights.

According to Dworkin, “judges must make fresh judgments about the rights of the parties

who come before them, but these political rights reflect, rather than oppose, political

decisions of the past.”47 The idea here is that when judges look to applicable rule and

precedent and find no judgment mandatory, as in hard cases, they must look beyond those

rules and reflect on the institutional morality supporting them. It is only through such

reflection that judges can, by exercising weak discretion, decide hard cases consistent

with the rule of law.

In an effort to sort out just what position Dworkin takes (or at least which one I

wish to endorse as a viable candidate for accounting for the important principles of both

Hart and Dworkin) we should make clear the distinction between the Dworkin of Hard

Cases and Dworkin of his Appendix Replies. To this end I will refer to Dworkin of Hard

Cases as the early Dworkin and Dworkin’s later incarnation as the late Dworkin. As a

brief sketch we might say the early Dworkin requires that legal principles be constrained

27

in such a way that not any principle could count as implied by the germane body of

extant law and the late Dworkin backs away from this level of restriction at the expense

of his ability to provide a satisfactory rule of recognition.

In “Hard Cases” the early Dworkin argues that principles are implicit or

embedded in earlier decisions and are legally binding if they figure into “the best

justification”48 of those decisions. “The judge very rarely assumes the character of

independence,” Dworkin claims, “He will always try to connect the justification he

provides for an original decision with the decisions that others have taken in the past.”49

This connection, however, is not like the connection of rule; rather, it is the connection of

a morality that hangs behind the system of rules. The idea, then, is that a judge should

confront the myriad of possibly conflicting moral principles lying behind the system of

rules, and weigh these rules against one another, ultimately using the principle that most

consistently explains the system of law to decide the case.

The rights thesis of the early Dworkin demands an “articulate consistency,”50

viz., principles must be built from institutionally preexisting rights, not abstracted from

any broad background morality judges see fit to apply. In this sense, Dworkin has clearly

met Hart’s challenge of consistency for legal obligation. But the doctrinal requirement of

articulate consistency appears to present a certain problem for the use of judicial

discretion even in the weakened sense described above. The difficulty here is that a

judge in a hard case may disapprove of past precedents that lean toward the elimination

of the political rights of citizens. In such a case, the judge must take into account the

misguided institutional morality and, it would appear, be constrained to perpetuate moral

28

injustice. In light of this difficulty the rights thesis appears committed to “a false opinion

about what these rights are.”51

The early Dworkin argues that rather than view the judge as entirely constrained

by the interpretation of a past judiciary in further elucidating institutional rights, judges

must be free to review the institutional moral reasoning implied by past precedent.

Without such evaluation Dworkin believes the rights thesis must fail to truly protect the

institutional political rights of citizens. In an effort to describe how such legal decision

making might be both a consistent and accurate reflection of the institutional morality in

such cases, a more detailed account of “the special qualities of institutional rights... and

the particular qualities of legal rights, as a species of institutional rights”52 must be

offered. The aim of such an exposition is to develop in just what sense the early Dworkin

views judicial discretion as a development of institutional rights and duties.

The rights thesis relies on judges to elaborate the specifically legal rights of

citizens in hard cases. Yet, there are several other types of rights that might be confused

with legal ones. For one, general background rights may appeal to a judiciary. Use of

these rights would entail what we have called strong discretion. Background rights are

outside of the institutional morality, and in this sense reflect general ideals of political

philosophy. As an example, Dworkin uses the institution of chess. There are certain

regulative rules that fix the rights of chess players. A direct appeal to general morality, or

background rights, is insufficient to make a claim of institutional rights. Thus, in a chess

match “no one may argue that he has earned the right to be declared the winner by his

general virtue.”53 Each player has consented to abide by the rules fixed for the playing of

chess and those rules alone constitute their respective institutional rights.

29

In hard cases, such as Russian grandmaster Tal’s supposed intimidation of

Fischer, the difficulty is deciding if the rule of forfeiture due to “unreasonable”

annoyance applies. In such cases the chess referee must decide based on the character of

chess, he must, that is, “construct the games character... not to supplement convention,

but to enforce i t ”54 The referee must ask herself what role psychological intimidation

might play in an intellectual game. This will require decisions about the nature of

psychological forces and intellectual activity, each specifically regarding the game of

chess. The idea is that the referee must test answers to questions about intimidation and

intellectual activity that oscillate between the appropriateness and inappropriateness of

such activity to the game of chess. The rider “to the game of chess” requires that the

referee draw out a particular conception of what intellectual activity is in terms of “the

facts of the institution whose character he must elucidate.”55

Crucially, in the above example, the autonomy of the institution of chess from

external factors, like private morality, insulates the official’s duty and the rights of

participants. This insulation is complete in the case of chess since the institution itself is

fully autonomous. Thus, the referee is required to interpret or elaborate the concept of

unreasonable annoyance within this insulated institution, not amidst general background

rights. The general justification of the institution itself is germane since it dictates the

nature of the game as intellectual, but outside factors are clearly to be avoided since

participants have consented only to the autonomous ground of the game.

The autonomy of legal rights, like chess rights, follows from the insulation of the

activity from outside issues. Unlike chess, however, legal rights are, on the early

Dworkin’s account, only semi-autonomous. That is legal rights are connected to a

30

broader game than simply affairs of court. In particular legal rights are connected by

their origin with political rights. Having sprung initially from political enactments, legal

rights in hard cases “turn on contested [political] concepts whose nature and function are

very much like the concept of the character of a game.”56 That is the nature of the

political institution, like the nature of chess, must factor into the interpretation of rules of

law, just as the character of chess as an intellectual game factors into an interpretation of

what unreasonable might mean.

The early Dworkin relies on two primary bridges to span the divide between

political character and legal rights; these are “the idea of the ‘intention’ or ‘purpose’ of a

particular statute and “the concept of principles that underlie the positive rule of law.”57

In short, these ‘bridges’ are devices for applying a general political theory, a character of

the game, to actual decisions in jurisprudence. If a judge does not accept the general

political theory that justifies legal practice, she will not be able to appropriately exercise

discretion in hard cases. Such a case would be like the chess referee who refuses to

accept the nature of chess as an intellectual game, instead viewing as a game of chance,

say, and yet proposes to elucidate a rule about what would be unreasonable. Such

elucidation is impossible, or at least misguided, without the correct understanding of the

character of the system within which such rules operate.

Broadly, the early Dworkin supposes that two main features of political rights

figure into the character of the game within which legal rights operate. Legislation is that

body of law created by some governing body, which is applied via the judicial system in

the form of legal rights. The intent or purpose of such legislation then provides a bridge

for the elucidation of these political characteristics in legal hard cases. The common law

31

is the other piece of preexisting political rights of which the judge in a hard case must

take account. The common law in this sense provides a bridge to legal rights in the form

of the principles that underlie previous jurisprudence. So the early Dworkin would have

the description of legal rights in hard cases constrained by two central features of the

political institution of which the legal system is a part.

In an effort to flesh out the process of interpretation via intent of legislation and

the principles implied by the common law, Dworkin suggests a perfect judge, talented in

all aspects of such interpretation, named Hercules. Hercules task is to develop a heuristic

with which to interpret hard cases, which will, of course, involve an analysis of

legislative intent and the principles of the common law. In analyzing intent, Hercules

must address the various bodies of legislation, particularly the constitution (supposing

there is one) and statutes. In providing a view of the principles of common law, Hercules

task will be to derive moral context from precedent in a manner that forms the most

consistent web, picking out only a few cases as past judicial mistakes.

In analyzing constitutional legislation Hercules “must develop a theory of the

constitution, in the shape of a complex set of principles and policies that justify that

scheme of government.”58 So much like the case of chess, the judge must understand

what justifies later rules in terms of the foundational justification of the entire game. If

the constitution argues for a schema of representative democracy, this argument must be

reflected in later decisions, just as a chess referee must use the intellectual character of

chess in later arguments.

Legislative intent to generate principles of law is found in more specific bodies

like statutes, which offer greater clarity that the broad justification provided by

32

foundational institutional documents, like constitutions. Moreover, Hercules must attend

to intent of statutory legislation in light of its need to be consistent with the

aforementioned understanding of the broader constitutional scope of legislation. When

opposing interpretations of a statute might both be applied in accord with broader

political rights, the key for Hercules will be to determine “which offers a better

justification of the statute.”59

It is important to note that, the idea here is that the judge ought to determine what

interpretation of statute best fits into the justification given for the statute. In hard cases

where such justification is ambiguous, the judge does not attempt to determine what the

legislative body might say had they recognized this ambiguity. Rather, the judge in a

hard case is obliged to determine which reading of the statute, as written, best fits into the

broad justification for the constitutional or political system of which the statute is a part.

In this sense the authority of a statute does not run out as Hart suggests, rather a judge

must use arguments of political structure to determine what the legislator has done in

drafting a statute within a particular political context.t

So far, Hercules has developed a sense of the institutional political morality, the

arguments that justify the state, embedded in its constitution and has used these

arguments to determine what an ambiguous statute implies. Such a reading places the

intent or purpose of legislation in the broader context of the arguments that support

legislative authority to make such determinations. There is of course a decisive move

away from reading intent as a historical fact about a legislative body in favor of viewing

statutes as the development of a preexisting argument.

33

In developing principles within the common law, Hercules must maintain the

methodology of advancing previous arguments. Unfortunately, previous legal decisions

most often fail to offer the canonical form, however vague, offered in statutes. It will

then prove difficult to determine “what parts of famous opinions should be taken to have

that character.”60 In fact the decision itself and the principles which justify it, rather than

its form as a statute are all that Hercules may have to appeal to in interpreting precedent.

The enactment force of precedent then is not limited to its “linguistic limits” as is the

force of a statute. Rather, the principles generated in precedent have a “gravitational

force” that extends beyond the “particular orbit” of the initial case.61

The difficulty for Hercules will be to decide just how far beyond the orbit of the

initial case, the gravitas of the principle present in precedent, will extend. In the end,

Hercules must “limit the gravitational force of earlier decisions to the extension of the

arguments of principle necessary to justify those decisions.”62 The rationale for the

above claim is that, as we discussed earlier, arguments of policy can have no appeal to

Hercules except in the enactment power of statutes. That is, policy concerns do not

generate legal rights, as is the form of principles, rather they serve some collective goal.

The principles behind earlier decisions, however, must be taken as part of the institutional

morality Hercules is committed to elaborating as a method for adjudicating competing

rights claims in hard cases.

The real difficulty for Hercules comes in the myriad of principles judges routinely

see as embedded in the common law. If the rights thesis is to hold, Hercules must

“construct a scheme of abstract and concrete principles that provides a coherent

justification for all common law precedents.”63 In other words, the jumble of principles

34

found in previous case law must be woven into a relatively seamless web of justifications

that do not contradict one another. In order to form this seamless web the early Dworkin

suggests that the principles developed be ordered vertically to provide distinctions of

authority, determinations of rank of importance in the overall argument, and those at the

same level must not be contradictory. The idea is that principles of the common law be

developed in accord with one another, and in the case of disagreement there be an

ordering principle that justifies why one principle takes precedent. Further, the ordering

principle itself must be a non-contradictory argument within the overarching institutional

structure.

On the early Dworkin’s account, there may remain some disagreement between

reasonable judges who have a different ordering structure in mind. In such cases

divergent accounts of the hierarchy of principles, or even which principles are valid, may

emerge. It is just such a disagreement judges often face in hard cases. The role of

Hercules in such instances is to continue to develop a consistent picture o f the

relationship between principles in the form of the soundest argument. Over the course of

time different judges elucidating principles of law will develop an increased

understanding of the direction in which an argument ought to proceed in order to best

justify the institutions political morality.

In reading the early Dworkin, we see a reliance on the notion of there being a

best argument to be made. That is, it appears the early Dworkin is arguing for the

possibility that one, albeit a “Hercules,” could discover the best interpretation of

principles embedded in the law and thus achieve the soundest argument for rights based

on an institutional political morality. David Richards, takes the extension of the notion

35

that there is a best interpretation to mean that the morality of a system, the principles of

law and the underlying institution, is a matter of fact to be discovered.64 Richards

supposes that Hart’s positivism must make room for the “rich middle ground between

rule and untrammeled discretion, namely, the judicial invocation of principles claimed to

underlie previous precedents or encapsulated in the form of legal maxims.”65 This belief

stems from the understanding of principles as matters of fact about legal systems, facts

that must be allowed into Hart’s rule of recognition. It is just this sort of view of

principles as facts that might impose upon Hart an obligation to accept such principles.

Yet the late Dworkin has rejected this understanding of principles as mere matters of fact.

The late Dworkin, in the Appendix to Taking Rights Seriously, points out that

Richards understands principles to be a matter of deduction, so that, “if two lawyers

disagree over whether a particular principle is ‘legally binding,’ one of them must be

making a logical mistake.”66 This understanding is of course incorrect, given our earlier

discussion of principles in which we saw that, “reasonable lawyers and judges may

disagree.”67 It is not necessary that a logical mistake is being made, rather an incomplete

image of the body principles may be at fault for the mistake. The point is that conflicting

principles can both correctly be attributed to the same system, though not perhaps in the

correct manner, or with the same weight.

Yet, in his Appendix reply, the late Dworkin seems to suppose that matters of fact

“in the Humean sense” cannot be contradictory, and thus principles cannot be, matters of

fact.68 This rendering by the late Dworkin is clearly at odds with the early Dworkin who

argued that it was the Herculean task of judges to arrange horizontal and vertical ordering

principles for the alleviation of just such inconsistencies. Here the late Dworkin appears

36

to be shifting the essential character of legal principles away from their role as human

constructions and rather towards their interpretation as brute facts of nature. It seems

perfectly reasonable that contrary moral principles may as a matter fact be embedded in a

single institutional morality. Such an institution would then be incoherent, only if there

were no ordering principle sufficient to justify such an arrangement.

The late Dworkin does make a further move to justify his concern with Richards’

reading of the early Dworkin as relegating principles to mere matters of fact. The late

Dworkin points out that matters of principle in the law may depend on the background

moral assumptions that give rise to these principles in the law.69 In this respect the late

Dworkin may be in accord with the early Dworkin since the background morality that

justified a piece of legislation is not a matter of fact, but of individual morality. Yet,

there is no serious challenge implied by such reconciliation for Richards’ reading of the

early Dworkin. Principles embedded in the law are still facts about the law, but it may be<JA

a contingent fact that they also reflect a general background morality.

Perhaps the clearest statement of the late Dworkin’s position comes when he

writes, “I do not think that there are agreed criteria of superior theoretical explanation.”71

The implication is, of course, that no criteria for a better fit within the institutional

morality can be found. Judges, the late Dworkin seems to be saying, do not, nor can they

be expected to, share in any aesthetic preference for one argumentative style over another

to figure the best justification for existent rights. He moves on to deny the claim that one

must either, insist that the law is a matter of fact, or deny any distinction between law and

morality. Yet, by supposing that no criteria can be established for choosing between

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arguments of institutional morality, the late Dworkin appears to be taking a different

position.

The late Dworkin appears to be making an attempt to highlight the notion that

legal principles are not merely matters of fact, but also represent more thoroughgoing

moralities. Unfortunately, the move to highlight this feature of legal principles takes him

away from his earlier notion that some best fit could in fact be discovered outside of such

general background moralities. There seems no reason Dworkin cannot maintain his

earlier position that there is indeed a best way (although that way may only be revealed in

hindsight) and simultaneously assert that this best way reflects a particular background

morality.72 In fact, that is just how we read the early Dworkin to account for the

important point about the need for a common morality to integrate the law.

Without a convincing reason to suppose that legal principles are not at least in

part matters of fact, we ought to continue to follow the early Dworkin in his pragmatic

solution to the difficulties inherent in a separability thesis. For the early Dworkin, in hard

cases the responsible judge confronts conflicting principles, weighing them in

relationship to one another with an eye toward creating a consistent narrative about the

morality of this legal system. Common law has often been described as a chapter play,

where many participants tell a chapter of a story each building upon the others.

Dworkin’s early claim is that, in cases where conflicting principles must be weighed, that

principle which is most consistent with the rest of the story as told by others should be

chosen. Dworkin’s narrative of principles told in connection with rules of law gives body

to an intangible shared morality to which any notion of a robust legal system must appeal.

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The web of moral principles Dworkin analyzes in “Hard Cases ” is grounded in

the principles developed by the society itself in the form of institutional rules. Judges

then further develop this loose network of moral principles by attributing weight to them.

Often the weighing process is done by method of trial and error. Judicial maneuvering is

a process like the conversation surrounding the telling of a chapter play, there is a

discussion during each new chapter about how it fits into the last, how this could be made

better or worse. In the end there is a factual claim to be made about what changes make a

chapter fit better or worse in the context of the overarching narrative, the institutional

morality.

In the final sense, by using moral judgment as the arbiter of decisions of law,

judicial discretion plays an important role in understanding law; this is why all societies

seek genuinely wise people for the profession. Yet, one cannot be too quick to claim that

judicial discretion alone creates the law. Dworkin argues for an enormous amount of

restraint on, for example, legal moralism, including the founding of such morality in the

institutional character of society and the use of rights conferring principles rather than

broad social policy standards. Moral principles thus have a role to play in how we

understand the law, but that role is still limiteB in liberal states to the liberal social aim of

the law in the first place. In other words, while the law is undeniably understood in terms

of moral principle, that understanding is restrained by the character or pedigree of the

moral principles thought to be applicable in a particular liberal legal system.

Hart’s requirement of obligation was that the law is understood to have some

ultimate source of authority, appeal to which would render certainty of understanding to

rules of law. Dworkin’s appeal to consistency in interpretation, a consistency based on

39

the principles underlying rules themselves, offers an account of authoritative

interpretation creating obligation. While the rule-based certainty Hart sought in final

decisions is not present in Dworkin’s method of understanding law, a certainty of method

is, and this methodological certainty is all that Hart need require. By basing an

understanding of the law in hard cases on the moral principles hanging behind legal rules

in “Hard Cases, ” Dworkin offers an account which provides the certainty needed to

draw people into law’s obligation and the moral narrative needed to continue the work of

law. In the end, Dworkin’s reliance on principles seems to affirm the important

requirements of positivism and provide a sense of the minimum shared morality legal

obligation requires.

PART III. Hart’s Postscript Response

Hart replies to Dworkin in his postscript to the second edition of The Concept of

Law, writing “Principles are an important feature of adjudication and legal reasoning.”

He continues, “Much credit is due to Dworkin for having shown and illustrated their

importance... and certainly it was a serious mistake on my part not to have stressed their

non-conclusive force.”73 Here Hart’s ‘their’ refers not to principles, but to his conception

of rules. While acknowledging Dworkin for the importance of pointing out the necessity

of non-conclusive principles Hart also maintains that his earlier account of rules is not

limited to binary conclusive applications as Dworkin maintained. Recall that Dworkin

described rules as “applicable in an all or nothing fashion”74 and claimed that such binary

application created the consistency Hart used to justify obligation to a set of laws.

Dworkin’s modification points out that consistency within a set of systematic

values need not appear in the form of conclusive rules to be coherent. In fact such

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conclusive rules alone relegate decision making in hard cases to such a degree of

unpredictability that obligation seems jeopardized. On Dworkin’s account, the

coordination of legal principles underlying a system of rules into a broad picture of the

law may create a system of consistency implying obligation without entailing only

conclusive rules. Hart seems to agree with this basic picture of obligation, and makes a

case for the flexibility of rules in this sort of context. Rules, Hart argues, are describable

in identical terms to principles, only varying by a matter of degree and thus do not require

any significant alteration.

Hart points out that for Dworkin legal principles have weight, that is, they count

but may be non-decisive. In accord with this conception of principles, Hart claims “a

valid rule determines a result in cases to which it is applicable, except where another rule,

judged to be more important is also applicable.”75 Here Hart clearly embraces the notion

of rules as non-conclusive, and seemingly loses some ground in his earlier argument for

clarity and consistency in creating obligation. But if we suppose that he adopts the

modification of positivism’s theory of obligation suggested by Dworkin this appears to

create no real trouble for his theory. Hart is, with such a modification, able to claim

consistency in the same broad systemic w;ay that the early Dworkin views principles as

creating a coherent and consistent picture of a legal system.

Following on the heels of his apparent concession, Hart does however point out a

criticism of Dworkin’s strong distinction between rules and principles.76 It is incoherent,

he argues, for Dworkin to suppose that a legal system may simultaneously contain all-or-

nothing rules and non-conclusive principles. Hart’s contention is that in Dworkin’s own

examples of principles, such as the principle ‘no one may profit from wrongdoing,’ they

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are in competition with rules over which carries more legal weight. The example found

in Riggs v. Palmer77 asserts that in at least some instances principles seem to have more

weight then rules, since the “clear language of statutory rules”78 is trumped by principle.

This leads Hart to claim that “rules do not have an all-or-nothing character, since they are

7Qliable to be brought into conflict with principles which outweigh them.”

At the broadest level, Hart seems to be claiming that any competition between

rules and principles indicates an assignment of weight to rules, which indicates a non-

conclusive status to rules. This seems to me a serious challenge to the notion of all or

nothing rules, but it is not in itself a devastating critique. It seems perfectly consistent to

say that rules both have weight and are applied in an all-or-nothing fashion. All this sort

of move requires is that rules each carry the same weight so that two valid rules cannot be

brought into conflict. Then rules either apply or do not and no conflict between them can

be settled based on their relative weight, only their terms of applicability. In relationship

to other rules this would indicate an all-or-nothing character and seems to represent the

sort of certainty Hart earlier sought in his theory of rules.

Yet, Hart presents a possibility beyond the confrontation of rules with other rules

by stressing the possibility of principles confronting rules. The possibility of principles

outweighing rules confirms Hart’s argument that rules cannot have an all or nothing

character, because even when they apply they may still fail to be decisive in light of an

overriding principle. In such an instance the weight of a rule, not its terms of

applicability, is decisive and thus the rule must be considered against countervailing

pressures and is not applicable in an all-or-nothing fashion.

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One might wish to maintain the strong distinction between rules and principles as

a matter of efficiency in the production of certainty and obligation. It seems the more we

are able to limit standard cases of adjudication to binary determinates like the standard

conception of rules the less we must rely on the admittedly difficult interpretive task of

evaluating weight as in the case of principles. In this light it seems to me there is a clear

avenue of response to Hart’s weakening of the rule/principle distinction. On Hart’s own

account principles contribute to the justification of rules and in so doing it seems they

distinguish themselves fairly straightforwardly from rules.80 But, more to the point, as

foundational to rules, principles provide the possibility of a rules legal status, so that if

the principle justifying a rule is overridden by another principle the rule not only doesn’t

apply, it doesn’t exist.

The claim here is that a conceptual “stacking” orders operations in such a way

that the resolution of conflicting principles occurs prior to the justification of a rule. In

such a case a rule may exist in a constitution say, and some secondary rule may pick it

out as valid, but without the support of principle these are insufficient conditions to entail

obligation to the law. Hart gestures at this counter-argument when he writes “on this

view a rule will fail to determine a result in a case to which it is applicable according to

its terms if its justifying principle is outweighed by another.”81 What Hart fails to notice

is that while the rule may still appear applicable on certain terms it will nevertheless have

been rendered so only in an extralegal sense. That is without a justificatory principle the

rule does not carry the weight of law, at best it carries the threat of enforcement. So

while there may be an artifact indiscernible in form from a legal rule, the moral force of

43

law’s obligation would be missing from a rule without a justificatory principle of

dominant weight.

Hart’s second criticism of Dworkin concerns the manner in which one might

identify a legal principle and thus provide justification for legal rules. On Hart’s account,

the operation of secondary rules of recognition makes possible the identification of legal

principles. On Dworkin’s account, “the hidden structure” of law is revealed by the

construction of legal principles into a holistic picture of legal history including secondary

rules. Hart’s argument is in two parts, first, he claims that secondary rules of recognition

can often point out precisely what principles are elements of law, and second, in instances

when secondary rules cannot precisely pick out legal principles they must still be relied

on in the process of constructing such principles.

Hart’s first contention, that a principle, or non-conclusive legal standard, may be

picked out by pedigree in the manner commonly attributed to secondary rules seems

relatively unproblematic. As an example Hart cites Dworkin’s argument that the

Constitution’s First Amendment is not a rule but a principle. Hart contends that if the

First Amendment is a principle, then clearly “a statute may be taken as intended toO 'J

operate in the non-conclusive way characteristic of principles.” From this proposition

Hart wants to conclude that legal principles are identifiable in virtue of their being things

like statutes. This of course is problematic in so far as not all statutes are principles; even

on Hart’s account some quite (though not perfectly) conclusive rules are identified by

secondary rules in virtue of their inclusion in statute.

The real thrust of Hart’s first point comes when he claims that “some legal

principles... such as that no man may profit from wrongdoing, are identified as law by the

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‘pedigree’ test in that they have been consistently invoked by courts in a range of

different cases.”83 Here Hart is indicating that in each relevant new case a court must

consider previous exposition of legal principles in their decision making. In so doing the

court identifies principles not through any holistic interpretive act, but in virtue of a

secondary rule of recognition. So, for example, the principle that no one should profit

from wrongdoing is accepted as a legal principle not because it best fits the institutional

history of the American legal system, but because this principle has been identified by

recognized sources of legal authority.

We might still abandon rules of recognition by claiming that some holistic

interpretation of principles, including the one about profit and wrongdoing, becomes

revived in the training of each generation of lawyers. In this instance we would not find

the use of legal principles an assent to some secondary rule with independent authority,

but the memory of an interpretation already made (in law school perhaps). I think this

position is defensible but in the end it seems to be working toward the reduction of a

jurisprudential “toolkit.” Moreover, if each generation of lawyers is simply indoctrinated

into some previous interpretation, it seems as though accordance with earlierQ A

interpretation becomes the secondary rule that picks out legal principles. If an

institutional memory takes the place of actual interpretation, that memory carries the

force of law only in virtue of a rule of recognition and not because it coherently describes

the body of extant law.

Having made his case for pedigree as a standard of picking out legal principles,

Hart turns to those novel cases in which “principles cannot be so captured.”85 Hart

maintains that some principles may “have no other feature that would permit their

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identification other than belonging to that coherent scheme of principles which best fits

the institutional history.”86 Yet, on Hart’s account, even these principles rely indirectly

on rules of recognition. Hart claims that the content which identifies some principles as

such independent of their pedigree is in fact only accessible because of rules of

recognition. Hart’s claim is that since some legal principles owe their status “to their

content serving as interpretation of settled law” 87 the identification of such principles

requires some independent rule of recognition that defines what counts as “settled law.”

The identification of principles in the first instance does seem to require some

method of recognizing what counts as established law. If there is no way of determining

what a legal system has done, or even how it is constructed, I think Dworkin is obliged to

agree that the task of picking out its systemic principles is impossible. As Hart points out0 0

Dworkin is committed to a “preinterpretive law” in which some source of law is

authoritative in virtue of a consensus on assumptions or a shared paradigm of judicial

reasoning. Hart I think rightly claims that in this much each “explanation of judicial

identification of the sources of law is substantially the same.”89

Conclusion

The persistent difference between Hart and Dworkin is that Dworkin supposes

that the process of interpretation is consistently more morally involved than Hart is

willing to admit. Hart wants to argue that the identification of principles within the law

takes place as “a method of law recognition required by a mere conventional rule

accepted by the judges and lawyers of a legal system.”90 In this sense any given legal

system has some foundational pre-legal conventions, which admittedly are value-laden,

from which arise value-neutral rules and principles that justify these rules systemically

46

based on the system’s values. On this account simple rule application infers principles

from the minimum moral content of any legal system.

Dworkin essentially agrees that any legal system is based, as an initial matter, on

a set of value-laden presuppositions. Where Dworkin represents a conceptual split from

even the Postscript is in rejecting the idea that all principles or justificatory

interpretations spring unaltered from the initial presuppositions of a legal system. The

early Dworkin seems to argue that inconclusive moral principles require a level of

interpretation that goes beyond a static nearly conclusive reference to originating

principles. Dworkin appears to be arguing that the moral principles of a system develop

internally as they are used and applied within a legal system. Hart rejects this sort of

organic evolution of the internal moral foundations of a legal system.

Unlike the late Dworkin, who would seemingly argue that even external and

novel moralities might appear in the form of legal principles, the early Dworkin is limited

to saying that some development of initial moral foundations are discoverable through

judicial interpretation. Hart rejects even this sort of development of moral principles

within a legal system and argues that beyond the necessity of a founding moral content

all interpretation takes the form of rules. On Hart’s account, a rule-like necessity entails

the outcome of interpretation based on the initial conditions of a legal system.

Interpretation for Dworkin is more robust than this, and indicates the tracing of moral

development from within a system.

In its applied context, Hart’s Postscript seems to maintain his earlier position that

judges in hard cases are compelled to create new law. Hart’s argument to the effect that

secondary rules condition the interpretation of principles points out his continued

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commitment to restricting moral development within legal standards. Dworkin, while

constrained to accept many of Hart’s conclusions about the necessity of secondary rules,

seems to consistently maintain the appropriate role of judicial discretion. For Dworkin

the emphasis need not be on the importance of rules in the continuing process of

interpretation, rather he is free to emphasize the development of principles as they are

applied and reapplied. In emphasizing the minute shifts in context implied by each

contingent application, Dworkin may agree that rules condition the interpretation of

principles while acknowledging the developmental role played by the judiciary.

In the final analysis the difference between Dworkin and Hart seems to be far

less substantial then their ground of agreement. Each theorist wishes to maintain that the

law has a moral character implied by the procedural mechanisms employed in its

justification. Whether called rules or principles both Hart and Dworkin also agree that

the application of law is a less than precise operation requiring the weighing of various

important legal standards. Hart simply wants to collapse the legal rules and principles

into a single kind in order to fend off the intrusion of a moral character into the

interpretation of law. Interpretation he argues is matter of applying standards and not an

illumination of a legal system’s broad character.

I have argued that Dworkin may be forced to concede that the interpretation of

legal principles does require some nearly conclusive standards on what counts as legal.

But once consensus about such standards is reached there is no reason to suppose legal

principles will advance in an unaltered state. Remember, rules on Hart’s account are

nearly conclusive so even a strict reliance on rules in the interpretation of principles

allows space for development. In this sense then legal rules and principles are distinct in

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their capacity for content development. Legal principles reflect the morality of a legal

system and as the system removes, replaces, or instantiates new rules the weight

associated with corresponding principles is changed. Rules may not apply in an all or

nothing fashion but their weight does not change with respect to one another, principles

on the other hand reflect a growing momentum in which relative weight shifts as the legal

system develops.

Finally, since the weight of legal principles shifts, the process of judicial

interpretation must, to be consistent with these shifts, involve some regard for the

development of the procedural morality reflected by legal principles. That is to say, the

moral underpinnings of a legal system must have a substantive impact on decisions

within that system if the common law is to develop consistently. I have not attempted to

shown that Hart is required to agree to this contention, but he is certainly taking steps

down this road when he assents to the need for interpretation of non-conclusive rules.

Overall Hart’s acceptance of Dworkin’s emphasis on legal principles moves the

discussion of morality and the law forward and for that we can be grateful.

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1 Brian Leiter, “Beyond the Hart/Dworkin Debate: The Methodology Problem in Jurisprudence,” p. 1.2 Earlier here is used to demarcate two distinct positions I attribute to Dworkin at different times in his career. Specifically, by earlier I mean the Dworkin of “Hard Cases” and “A Model of Rules,” and by later Dworkin I refer to the Dworkin of his Appendix replies in Taking Rights Seriously.3 Leiter, p. 2.4 In light of the generally shared conception of law’s moral methodological underpinnings, it seems to me future debate for legal philosophy might find more ferrite ground in discussion of the impact of such moral preconditions. Specifically, it seems appropriate to discuss the effect such foundational moral assumptions have on substantial issues in law, and to what extent such a feedback loop is antithetical to the moral principles which ground the systematic development of substantive legal rules. This discussion is in my estimation an important one, but may only be adequately addressed after getting clear on the development of legal systems.5 H.L.A. Hart, The Concept o f Law, 2nd ed., (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997) p. 95.6 Hart, p. 255.7 Ronald Dworkin, “Hard Cases,” reprinted in Taking Rights Seriously (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1978).8 Hart, p. 2659 Hart, p. 26110 John Austin, “The Providence of Jurisprudence Determined,” reprinted in Legal Philosophy, ed. Larry May, et. al., (Mountain View, CA: Mayfeild Publishing Co., 2000) p. 72.11 There is some slight discrepancy in my use of classical natural law and Austin’s conception of law, insomuch as Austin narrows the scope of law to be applicable only to entities with a will, thus negating natural law in the classical scientific sense. I ignore this difference in our respective terminology in the interest of rhetorical clarity.12 Austin, p. 72.13 Austin, p. 79.14 Hart, p. 84,15 Hart, p. 84.16 Hart, p. 90.17 Hart, p. 90. The emphasis is original.18 Hart, p. 91.19 Hart, p. 91.20 Hart, p. 92.21 Hart, p. 94.22 Hart, p. 96.23 Hart, p. 97.24 John Rawls, A Theory o f Justice, (Cambridge, MA. Belknap Press, 1999) p. 207.25 Ronald Dworkin, “The Model of Rules I,” reprinted in Taking Rights Seriously, (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1978) p. 45.26 Hart, p. 100.27 Hart, p. 101.28 Hart, p. 105. The emphasis is original.29 Ronald Dworkin, “The Model of Rules I,” reprinted in Taking Rights Seriously, (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997) p. 22.30 Ronald Dworkin, “Richards and Positivism Revived, " in the Appendix to Taking Rights Seriously, (Cambridge, MA. Harvard University Press, 1978) pp. 338-345.31 See the controversy over end of life ethics involved in the recent case of Terri Schiavo.32 Dworkin, p. 23.33 Dworkin, p.24-26.34 Riggs v. Palmer, 115 N.Y. 506.35 Ibid. p. 509.36 Ibid. p. 511.37 Dworkin, p. 26.38 Ronald Dworkin, “The Model of Rules I I” reprinted in Taking Rights Seriously, (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1978) p. 48.

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39 Dworkin, p. 29.40 Dworkin, p. 31.41 Dworkin, p. 32.42 Dworkin, p. 33.43 Dworkin, p. 35.44 Dworkin, p. 81.45 Dworkin, p. 84.46 Dworkin, p. 41.47 Dworkin, p. 87.48 Dworkin, p. 340, quoting himself in "Hard Cases. ”49 Dworkin, p. 112.50 Dworkin, p. 88.31 Dworkin, p. 89.52 Dworkin, p. 90.53 Dworkin, p. 101.54 Dworkin, p. 103,33 Dworkin, p. 103.36 Dworkin, p. 105.37 Ibid.38 Dworkin, p. 107.59 Dworkin, p. 109.60 Dworkin, p. 111.61 Dworkin, p. 111.62 Dworkin, p. 113.63 Dworkin, p. 116.64 David A. J. Richards, “Rules, Policies and Neutral Principles: The Search for Legitimacy in Common Law and Constitutional Adjudication,” Georgia Law Review, Vol. n, p. 1069.63Richards, p. 1092.66 Ronald Dworkin, Appendix to Taking Rights Seriously, (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1978) p. 340.67 See above, note 5968 Dworkin, p. 342.69 Dworkin, p. 342.70 The late Dworkin himself points out that the non-factual component of a principle, “is never identical with... what background morality requires” p. 342. It is difficult to see how Richards is really wrong in calling legal principles mere facts, but it seems reasonable to assent to Dworkin’s claim that they also reflect something different than a fact.71 Dworkin, 341.72 Unless, of course, he also holds some belief about what that morality must be. But Dworkin is clear throughout his work that the law need not represent any specific or good morality.73 Hart, p. 263.74 Dworkin, p. 24.75 Hart, p. 261.76 Hart points out that he has already made these points at pp. 130-134, yet this non-conclusive version of rules seems to present a clear difficulty to his own theory of obligation. Since this difficulty is resolved more clearly in Dworkin, I use the phrase seeming concession as an indication of the value added by Dworkin’s contribution. •77 Cf. notes 33 and 36.78 Hart, p. 262.79 Ibid.80 Hart, p. 260.81 Hart, p. 262.82 Hart, p. 264.83 Hart, p. 265.

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84 This relies on the conception of a lawyer’s education as indoctrination, as opposed to critical evaluation, but most legal professionals and law school admissions counselors seem to agree with this characterization.85 Hart, p. 265.86 Ibid.87 Hart, p. 264.88 Hart, p. 266.89 Hart, p. 267.90 Ibid.